H2 Hack
by ThomE.Gemcity-06
Summary: For T2 TRAINSPOTTING/ Essence Series: 2/2 / SEQUEL to: "HACK" / Mates are like a bad habit that is difficult to break, because if you couldn't be yourself with your mates, then who could you be yourself with?


**a/n: Essence Series. Companion to: "Hack"**

 **Summary:** _Mates are like a bad habit that is difficult to break, because if you couldn't be yourself with your mates, then who could you be yourself with?_

 **Includes/Warning: T2 Spoilers, Mark POV.**

 **-** **T2** **TRAINSPOTTING** **-**

* * *

 **H2 Hack**

Ah forgot. Ah tricked maself intae thinking it would be different. That's whit we alweys do, contort oor memories wi the sentiment ay hope that mibby it'll be different this time. Is it fucking ever?

It's been 20 years n we're all just aulder versions ay oor past selves. Sick Boy's life theory finally come tae maturity. Fuck sake, how kin Ah ever live it doon?

Easily done... fucking lie.

"So, ye went oot thair n made something ay yirself, a proper citizen daeing his part fir civilization." He mocks, leaning against the pool table in his auntie's auld pub. Ah am too well-aware ay the cue laying across his thighs.

"At least Ah did something wi ma life."

"£16,000 will dae that fir ye." He utters under his breath.

 _£14,000,_ Ah think ay Spud. The reason Ah'm talking tae this cunt in the first place. Ah dinnae ken whit Ah wis thinking. Ah'd let Spud get tae us. Guilt us intae staying... _Just a bit_ , he said. Hanging his fucking future suicide attempts oan the contingency ay ma staying. The clever bastard. Ye kin never tell whin it came tae Spud Murphy whether it's a act ay brilliance or just pure accident.

"Ye think ye kin just call yirself 'Simon' n that means yir no 'Sick Boy' anymore? Whit a fucking laugh!"

"Aye. Like yiv made something ay yirself like. Yet here we both are in the same place." He stands fae the pool table, spreading his airms in indication, ay us, ay him, his fucking theory personified. "In the end we cannae just hack it, how eloquently ye put it back then... _Mark._ "

Ah'm minded ay a few things aboot ma so-called best mate. He's still a better fighter than Ah am even though he still treats his body like a rubbish dump, n Ah wisnae aware enough ay the fucking pool cue, or the several after that left very distinct bruises oan ma torso.

Ah still gie him the _£4,000_ anywey after ma knock fir six at regaining conscious, surprised he didnae nick it while Ah wis oot. Just do ma mission n get the fuck oot. But it's never that simple, is it? It's too easily tae get sucked intae the past, commiserate, attend the bridge tae auld mates.

…

A visit tae ma mother's grave wi ma father n Ah huv tae wonder if thair wis ever a time she wis proud ay us. Did Ah ever do anything in ma life, as Rent Boy, Mark Renton, or Mark Philip Renton tae make her proud ay us? Quit uni n get addicted tae heroin; an opportunity wi betrayal ay ma mates n fucking run oaf fir twenty years; a broken marriage, nae kids, nae career.

All ay it n whit the fuck did Ah huv tae show fir maself? Simon wis right. Simon n his fucking theories that Ah alweys used tae rool ma eyes at. Ah ran awey fir fucking 20 years! Ah dinnae even ken ma mother wis deid till ma father telt us.

Whae the fuck wis Ah kidding?

"Ah'm forty-six n Ah'm fucked! Ah've got nae home. Ah've got nowhere Ah think ay as home. Ah don't really ken anyone. You, Spud, Veronika. How fucking pathetic is that? 46 years, another fucking thirty guaranteed apparently n Ah've got nowt!" Ah cannae stop, standing in the middle ay his flat like Ah'm shouting ma confessions tae Christ. "N whit's the substance ay oor acquaintance, eh?"

"Friendship, please." Simon deadpans.

Ah sputter a scuff. "Is that whit the fuck ye want tae call it, us stabbing each other in the back in turn?"

"We're too auld n set in oor weys tae find new yins." He says. "Best just live wi it, Rent Boy."

Ah sit heavily oan the couch next tae him. Nae yin's called us that in twenty-fucking years. It takes the breath oot ay ma ribs. It crushes us just a bit, leaves us feeling dry an brittle. "Aye," Ah utter, slumping back.

Two days in Edinburgh n Mark Philip Renton wis already flaking awey. Ah hudnae scraped Rent Boy's skin awey whin Ah decided tae leave n take the money. The reality ay it wis that Ah'd just grown a new skin over him, Ah tricked maself, like Ah hud wi so many things.

Diane wis right. The world was changed. Music wis fluid. Thair wis alweys another new designer drug oot thair. But fuck if people changed. Fuck if Ah hud changed fae the wanker whae stole fae his so-called mates.

"Awright." Ah turn ma heid oan the back ay the couch tae look over at him. "How do ye want tae do this... get the money fir yir _brothel._ "

"Sauna, please." Simon corrected, en rote, sending us a look fae the corner ay his eye, a spark n Ah cannae help but respond.

"Brothel." Ah cannae help the shite-eating grin.

"Well..." he huffs. "Yil soon see it ma wey, ye alweys do."

It wis too easily tae fall back intae scamming wi Simon. Tae fall back intae the past. Tae glorify it. Yin wee shift ay the breeze n a skin cultivated fae twenty years wis flakes in the wind, n Rent Boy wis back. A duffle bag is all that wis left ay Mark Philip Renton, just the outside dressing, mind you. Thair wis nowt else tae show fir it, so Ah fell back in wi Simon n Spud adding layers tae Rent Boy whae'd gone wanting over the past years.

...

All these years, ma past wis just waiting fir us, revolving, until Ah returned.

The shadow ay Begbie wis dense, yet Ah stayed. Even after he sliced us. Even after Simon kent he escaped fae prison n wis oan the warpath, Ah fucking stayed in this destitute place. Mibby Ah wis just sick ay trying tae be better than whit Ah wis.

Fir twenty years Ah wis chained tae the lie ay ma past. Mark Philip Renton wis the mask ay a wooden boy. Thair's nowt ay substance tae even prove that he really existed, that his life wisnae just some dream that Ah concocted tae get awey. If ye cannae mind people ye cared fir, did the present still exist, wis it even worth remembering if ye cannae even be bothered tae live through it?

But wi the return tae ma past, rich wi memories, good n bad, wi people, loved n hated, Ah want more n more tae remember. Wi each bruise, cut, n indignity—it's all revealed tae us. The truth ay it all.

In Simon's betrayal, he matched me. We were impolsive, selfish, destructive, petulant. We revealed tae each other oor darkest—n yet, we still looked each other in the eye.

If ye couldna be yirself wi yir mates, the whae the fuck were ye? You look fir someone else, Ah did. Ah failed. So if ye couldnae be yirself wi someone else, then why no be yirself wi yir mates?

It wis all oot in the open between Si n Ah. Oor darkest betrayal. N in the end, Spud showed it too.

If ye couldna be yirself wi yir mates, then whae the fuck were ye? But if ye hud tae be someone, why no be it wi yir mates? If ye couldnae be yirself wi someone else, whae did ye huv tae turn other than yir mates, the family ye chose?

Mates, home, it wis the things Ah'd been running fae fir the past two decades, but Ah huv it all figured oot. Ah am no Rent Boy, Mark Renton, Mark Philip Renton—Ah am Mark Philip 'Rent Boy' Renton. Ah am ma past, ma present, n ma future.

 _f_

 **-** **T2** **TRAINSPOTTING** **-**


End file.
